


Steel Sparrow

by Eavenne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Child Abandonment, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Superpowers, Trust Issues, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eavenne/pseuds/Eavenne
Summary: When Basch's mother dies, he finds Lilli – and soon she becomes the only real family he's ever had.





	Steel Sparrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sevanadium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevanadium/gifts).



> A part of this AU: http://aminoapps.com/p/6rd40d
> 
> Written for and dedicated to Sevandium, the owner of the AU! 
> 
> Essentially, everyone has a superpower, and a "Mod" is someone with superpowers. They're discriminated against for reasons too complicated to go into here.
> 
> Human names:
> 
> Switzerland = Basch  
> Liechtenstein = Lilli  
> Austria = Roderich

She was dead.

Some faceless professional led him to the room where her body laid; their footsteps rang like gunshots on the silent, gleaming floor. 

Basch wondered if his mother was as cold as the snow outside.

He watched as the sheet was drawn back with a thunderous crackle. There she was, the one person who was supposed to love him, but never did. Her eyes were closed, and with them the hatred that burned ever-constant on her irises, and her shut mouth could no longer utter casual criticisms or open wide to receive yet another bottle of cheap liquor –

“Goodbye,” he said, and left the room to its emptiness and his mother to her death.

\---

He stared out of the window.

The bus trundled by, stopping occasionally to pause for traffic or let other aimless souls on board. Abruptly he became aware of someone beside him, and Basch whipped his head around as the foam squeaked and a woman settled into her seat. 

It was difficult to ignore the noisily alive person at his side. Nor was it simple to silence the old memories of his mother that her death had shored up once more, but Basch leaned his head on the cool glass window that divided him from the winter and looked out again. If only he was as unbending as steel, resolute and true as iron – if only he didn’t have to feel things, and hear his mother’s voice whisper into his ear, “Why did you have to be born – ”

They were in the slums now, and the bus sped up, racing carelessly through frostbitten streets that had never recovered from the war. Basch knew that, for the dour eyes swimming in the darkness, the bus represented an ungraspable escape. Lamp-less lampposts flashed by; there was another browning building, another earthy face, another slumped girl –

His eyes widened.

\---

Her name was Lilli Vogel.

Once he’d caught sight of her, Basch had flown to her side. For a moment he was certain that she was dead, but then she stirred at his voice and he was convinced otherwise. The next thing had been to call an ambulance, but Lilli had weakly swung her hand up to grab his own and asked for some food and water.

Once she had eaten a little and rested for a while, Lilli calmly introduced herself. 

“I’ve been on the streets for four years, because my parents didn’t want me,” she said between mouthfuls of bread. “So they left me.” Her voice was flat, and she met his eyes without reserve or shame. “They were scared. Because I’m a Mod.”

Instantly Basch’s hand curled around the gun in his coat pocket. Mods – modified humans, people who were born gifted with various dangerous abilities – everyone feared them, everyone hated them, everyone rejected them and wished they didn’t exist.

Sometimes he thought about how his mother would’ve reacted if he’d ever slipped up and revealed his powers to her.

“You’re a Mod,” he said, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. 

There had to be something wrong with her, Basch thought, for Lilli simply smiled and nodded, shifting in her chair. It was a cheap, narrow chair, but it dwarfed her tiny body, engulfing it effortlessly. 

He couldn’t help but frown at the sight. 

“So, what’s your power?” he asked. If Lilli was always this loose with her lips, surely she’d be dead by now – how on earth had someone so ridiculously trusting managed to survive on the streets?

“Well, I learn quickly. Instinctively. I know things without being taught.” She glanced around the room, but shook her head as if she were dismissing some fleeting idea. “I don't think I’ll be able to convince you by explaining how a gun works, though.”

With an effort, Basch released his grip on his pistol. “Correct.” It wouldn’t surprise him if abandoned assault rifles still laid abandoned in the slums, oiled with dust. 

“Sometimes, I also… _know_ things. It’s basically a gut feeling, but I find that I’m quite accurate.” Her eyes darted up to meet his once more, and Basch felt uncomfortably as though Lilli were trying to read him. 

“You’re from the slums,” she said, an odd understanding shining in her gaze.

Suddenly, eye contact became unbearable, but Basch forced himself to stare back at the little girl sitting in front of him. Something told him that there was no point denying it, even though every fibre of his body protested against it and his heart pounded in his chest.

He was supposed to have left everything behind him.

“I lived there for some time,” he said, trying not to think about Roderich and how he’d been forced to leave his only companion for foreign, barren lands.

Everything had gone to hell after that.

“And you’re a Mod too.”

He froze.

“I’m sorry,” said Lilli, leaning forward earnestly, “but I just… _knew_. That I could trust you, because you know what it’s like to be me.”

Basch narrowed his eyes. “You shouldn’t trust me,” he said. “You shouldn’t trust anyone. That’s the way to survive in this world. Look after yourself, and don’t bother with anyone else.” Because everyone was out for themselves, and the people with the best intentions always lost out in the end. 

Yet Lilli tilted her head, wide-eyed. 

“Then, why did you help me?”

\---

There were things that he just couldn’t explain.

One of them was the fact that he’d let Lilli stay with him, if only for the time being. Winter was harsh, she was homeless, and he couldn’t simply let her sit in the snow and starve – perhaps she’d been able to live off charity and her low-paying flower-girl job for four years, but prices were rising and few people could spare any expenses.

Neither could he, but Basch couldn’t leave Lilli. There was something about her – the look in her eyes, perhaps – that Basch found himself wanting to protect. She was a miracle; she was impossible. While he struggled to shake off the fear that he was merely being taken advantage of, Lilli smiled and flounced around his small apartment and asked about his possessions.

“Did you make this?” she asked, gesturing towards the clarinet that he’d stashed in a box containing various small metal sculptures. 

Basch nodded. It was one of the few things he’d taken that night when he’d boarded that bus and disappeared from his mother’s life forever, because for a while he’d stupidly hung on to the hope that, somewhere, somehow, Roderich was still there –

But Roderich probably didn’t know or care, and he was a lifetime away, and Basch should have known better.

“Does it work?” Lilli said, stooping to examine it with a curious eye. 

Of course it didn’t. “No,” he said, “There’s no reed.” It didn’t work, and it never would. “You can never do anything right,” his mother whispered, “never, ever – ”

His hand curled into a fist as Basch let his consciousness flow into another scrap of metal, moulding and bending till a flower, cold and hard, blossomed in steel. 

In one quick movement he picked it up and handed it to Lilli. “Here,” he said, “something for you.” It was nothing to him, for he’d perfected his power for years, labouring on in secret, but Lilli oohed and aahed and obsessed over the flower with the enthusiasm of a child.

“It’s lovely,” she said, and Basch let her words flood through him. Yes – he was capable, he had escaped his fate and his past, and now there was no one to tell him that he wasn’t good enough.

Yet, he’d never be able to hear Roderich play the clarinet again. 

\---

They went to the funeral.

If he’d had his way, his mother would’ve been cremated, her ashes blown by the wind and out of his sight forever. Yet Basch’s mother had more relatives than he’d ever known, and somehow everyone demanded the opportunity to send her off. Honestly, it just made him wonder where they had been when his mother was short of money and couldn’t find a place to stay. 

The entire thing was a hassle. Even in death, his mother was leeching money, time and patience from him – back then all his hours at work had amounted to another bottle of alcohol on the table, and now he had to spend on stupid flowers to place on her gravestone. 

For some reason, Lilli wanted to accompany him, and Basch supposed it didn’t really matter. 

They set out in silence.

\---

The funeral was a nightmare.

“It was suicide,” some non-existent grandmother insisted loudly, “I know it was.” She looked appraisingly in Basch’s direction. “The poor thing never recovered from her husband’s affair, and then her son left her –! She was always delicate, and I’m just glad that she’s in a better place now. Don't you think, Gretchen?”

Yes, his mother was delicate, so delicate that she drank on and on, bottle after bottle, and ranted and raved and moaned about her future that she’d lost because of his father and because of him –

“You know,” someone said, “She really did love you. I hope you know that.”

They wanted something from him – they all wanted something from him, tears that he couldn’t shed or tales of fond memories that didn’t exist – why had he even agreed to hold a funeral, when everything could have been over and done with in an instant? Why had he been so stupid?

Suddenly a warm hand slipped into his own, and Basch turned to see Lilli staring anxiously at him, those large eyes seeing everything that he hated and feared.

Then she coughed and collapsed theatrically into his arms and groaned that she felt faint, and only then was it acceptable for Basch to escape the unyielding clutches of his family, and return home with the one person who really cared.

\---

Spring’s flowers bloomed.

Three months had flown by. What had seemed like a temporary arrangement become routine, and Basch slowly found himself dropping his guard around Lilli. 

Somehow it became silly to watch her with intent caution, and hiding his money and valuables from her began to seem excessive. There was just something about her – Basch could almost trust her, though a nagging voice in his head scolded him for the thought – and when he gave her a copy of the house key, Basch resigned himself to his course of action.

It was too late to go back.

\---

“You know,” said Lilli, playing with the hem of her dress, “I hardly know anything about you.”

Basch looked up. “You don’t need to.” There wasn’t much to tell.

The girl frowned, and leaned forward in interest. “But I want to get to know you,” she insisted, “so why don’t we play a game?”

“A game?” 

Lilli nodded. “You can ask me a question, and I’ll have to answer it truthfully. Then I’ll get to ask you something.” Her smile wavered. “I’ve wanted to tell you about myself. For a while now. But…” She looked away. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

Though he wanted no part in it, Basch couldn’t find the strength to disappoint her. “Alright,” he said. “Where were you from, initially?”

She let out a strained laugh, and glanced around the house. “Here.” Her hand hovered in the air, gesturing at nothing. “I was from the city.”

“I see.”

“Where were you from, originally?” she asked, looking at him once more. “I have the feeling that you weren’t born in the slums.”

“The Sub-Government of Zürich,” said Basch, “but my family moved to Vienna shortly afterward. And now, well, I’m here.” And his mother was dead. “How…” Though he was inclined to ask simple, easy questions, Basch couldn’t suppress the desire to learn more about Lilli. “How did it happen?”

She looked down. “We travelled to the slums one day, and they told me to wait for them. They – ” Her smile froze in place, even as her hands tightened on her skirt. “They never came back.”

“They didn’t deserve you.”

“They were good once,” Lilli said, her voice barely a whisper, “they loved me, and they took care of me. But then they found out that I was…different, that I learned too quickly – that I wasn’t normal, that I was a Mod. And then they changed.” She blinked rapidly. “And I just – I just want to know why. I mean, I know the reason, but I don’t understand how they could bring themselves to – that’s the only question that I’ve never been able to answer. Why did they abandon me?”

Her voice cracked, but Lilli didn’t cry. 

Basch didn’t know what to do, or say. Something compelled him to reach out to her, but he didn’t know how – and so he just sat there, staring at her in helplessness. 

“Don’t worry,” Lilli managed, struggling to smile, “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Something told him that she was lying, but then he was a liar as well.

“How did you end up in the slums?” she asked quietly.

Basch wanted to run. “Well, my mother – ” It was hard to continue, for he’d spent so much time escaping from his past and he’d never thought to look back. “She – well, as you heard at the funeral, my father – cheated on her, and they were always fighting before that. So when I was ten she packed her bags and took me to the city, because she wanted to leave the old days behind, but we – ” He remembered the slammed doors and shaking heads, days spent wandering aimlessly through hostile streets and crowded train stations, listening to his mother plead and beg for a place to stay. “We couldn’t afford anything, so we ended up in the slums.”

He’d never been able to spend money with a clear conscience since.

When Lilli watched him expectantly, Basch cleared his throat to continue. “How is it that – why can you smile on?”

She glanced away. “It’s easier that way,” she said, “because it helps me remember that I’m not alone. That everything’s all in the past. That there are kind people in this world – and they’re the ones who make life worth living.” Regaining confidence, Lilli met his gaze. “People like you.”

Before he could attempt at responding to her words, Lilli shifted closer to him. “How is it that you’re not in the slums anymore?” 

Basch hesitated. 

“I ran away,” he said, for it was true and he didn’t want to elaborate.

Yet Lilli waited for him to continue, and Basch knew he had no right to refuse. “I hated her,” he said. “That’s why I left.”

She’d hated him too. That was how it’d started.

“Why do you think that there are kind people in this world?” he asked. Because she was wrong, terribly naïve, and it didn’t make sense – her parents had abandoned her, so how; why; it was impossible.

When Lilli smiled, a sincere warmth crept into her face. “Because I know that there are,” she said, a natural confidence seeping back into her voice. “So many people helped me out, and without them I don’t know what I would have done. There are people who would stop by and ask if I was alright, and they’d give me just a little, to help me live. That day, you saved me. Thank you.” 

Even as she looked at him with bright eyes, Basch didn’t know what to say.

“Why do you think that there aren’t any kind people in this world?” 

Somehow, he thought she understood, but Lilli evidently felt the need to ask anyway.

It was simple. “Because there just aren’t,” he said, but Lilli’s intent gaze reminded him that she was evidence to the contrary. “Well, most people aren’t, anyway,” he concluded. Yet he still hadn’t answered her question, and Lilli didn’t seem ready to accept his words just like that.

“No matter what you do,” said Basch, “you’ll _never_ be good enough in others’ eyes, so why bother?” He’d never been able to meet his mother’s standards. “And there are so many people in this world who want to hurt you, because they have nothing in their lives and you’re just easy prey.” Lilli’s eyes widened, and Basch tried to ignore the concern brimming within them. “No one’s obliged to love you, or take care of you, so why would they?” And even if they were _supposed_ to, it didn’t make a difference. “That’s why you’ll always be betrayed, because people are selfish and only care about themselves. It’s better not to trust than to take that risk.”

Lilli took his hand. “I care about you,” she said.

And suddenly, Basch felt a little less alone. 

\---

They’d joined the Rebellion.

He hadn’t wanted Lilli to participate at first, but her ability was greatly helpful, and there was no stopping her.

“I want to help,” she said. “This is my home, and I want to fight for it.”

So they did, and Basch could only hope that it would all turn out all right. Somehow it was easier to hope now – slowly, Lilli had shown him that there was more to life than he’d thought, and that perhaps he could afford to trust in others again.

And she was worth everything.


End file.
